


Methos Chronicles Part 2

by Helis_von_Askir



Series: Methos Chronicles [2]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: Life goes on for the oldest living Immortal.





	Methos Chronicles Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know anything, unfortunately.  
> I'm giving this whole series thing a try. I don't know how long or how good it's going to get, but here is the second part.  
> And also, I'm a proud member of Clan Denial, so Richie never died. The whole thing at the end of season five and beginning of season six is merely a nightmare of MacLeod.

**Methos Chronicles 2**

The sun was burning down on the lonely country road. It was a bright and hot summer day, the perfect day for a drive in the country to enjoy the scenery. Something Richie Ryan would have loved to do, if his bike hadn’t broken down in the middle of nowhere. Now, here he was, pushing his beloved bike along the deserted road in an abysmal heat, cursing his rotten luck all the way. He needed to find a garage or body shop or whatever they were called in this country to fix it. Which might be a problem because he was pretty much broke. Guess, he should have taken Mac up on his offer to lend him some money for his trip across Europe.

But then hindsight was always 20/20. With another curse he pushed his bike off the street into the meadow and sat down next to it. He sure needed a break. If someone just would drive by, but no, this had to be the least frequented road in the entire country. After ten minutes, he went back to his task. At one point he was bound to come across a town or something, hopefully before the sun went down.

It was an hour later that he finally saw a villa sitting back from the street, surrounded by a high fence wall. Maybe they would let him borrow their phone, because the battery on his was as dead as his bike. He leaned his bike against the wall and pushed the button on the intercom system. “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but my bike broke down and I was wondering if you would borrow me your phone so I can call for some help.” He said in a rush in English. His Italian sucked, no matter how many times Mac tried to teach him, languages were not his thing.

There was no reply for over a minute and Richie was ready to try again when he suddenly heard a familiar voice. “Ryan, is that you?”

Richie blinked in surprise. Of all the people to run into. “Methos? What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, just to make sure he got it right. The Old Man had left Paris years ago and Richie hadn’t seen him since.

“I live here. What’s your excuse?” Came the test reply. Obviously, the Old Man was not in a very good mood. Maybe Richie had interrupted his nap, or siesta, or whatever it was called here.

“I told you, my bike broke down. Come on, let me in, Old-timer. I’ll fix it and be out of your hair in no time.” Richie pleaded. He might steal some food from Methos’ fridge before leaving but the Old man didn’t need to know that, and maybe a beer. You could always count on Methos to have a good stock of beer around.

“Alright, come on in.” Methos relented and the gate in front of Richie swung open. Not waiting for the old Immortal to change his mind, Richie pushed his machine through and up the driveway. When he reached the front door, Methos was already waiting for him. He didn’t look too pleased to see him, but also didn’t have his sword out, which in Richie’s book was always a good thing.

“Have to give it you, Methos, that is one sweet crib you got here.” Richie said after he had parked his bike in front of the steps and took a look around.

“So glad you approve, kid.” Methos replied. “And it’s Alessandro Letta for the moment. Stick to it.” He turned around and walked back inside. “Do you want something to eat, or not?”

Not someone to decline an invitation to free food ever, Richie hurried after the Old Man. At least now he didn’t have to steal it.

 

“So, you’re an artist now. That pay well?” Richie asked after he had finished his third helping of some delicious pasta. Who knew the old man could like that? Now with a full stomach and a beer in hand, he was admiring Methos’ work displayed in his studio. Richie was the first to admit that he didn’t have the faintest clue about art, Tessa had tried to explain it to him, but given up after he nearly fell asleep on her once. He could only say that he liked what he saw.

“Surprisingly well,” the Old Man replied from his position leaning against the doorframe, also a beer in hand.

“Do Mac and Joe know about this?” Richie asked stepping closer to a painting he was sure was depicting Joe playing his guitar. The painting was so dark, you could only see the outlines, but it did look like Joe to him.

“No, they don’t. And you won’t tell them, if you know what’s good for you. Nor will you tell them where I am.” Methos said in a deadly calm voice.

Richie turned back to him. “Why not? They’d like to visit, especially Joe. Besides, do you really think I can keep a secret from these two?” He gave the older Immortal a let’s-not-kid-each-other shrug.

“Joe gets e-mails from me, now and then. That has to be enough for the time being.” Methos replied. “And Mac just brings his problems along with him and I like my peace and quiet.” He gave Richie a pointed look.

“Hey, relax, man. I’ll only need a couple of days to fix my girls and then I’m outta here, I promise.” Richie raised his hand to ward off another argument. Methos had wanted to simply call a tow-service, but Richie didn’t like anyone else working on his bike. They had agreed on him staying, but not annoying the older man.

 

Methos let him crash in one of his guest rooms, which was bigger than some of the flats Ryan had lived in. The bed alone could easily fit three, and the bedroom had its own bathroom with a whirlpool. That was just too much of a temptation for Richie.

The hot, swirling water felt heavenly. The only thing missing was a pretty girl, but he didn’t think Methos would allow him to bring one back here, if Richie even had the will to get out of the whirlpool. Which he had not. It was so relaxing that the young Immortal almost fell asleep.

Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of the tube eventually, dried of quickly and fell into the big bed. It was even more comfortable than he had imagined.

_I could get used to living like this,_ Richie thought before falling asleep.

 

The next morning, Richie went into the garage. He was surprised to find the Old Man’s garage so well equipped. Everything he needed was there. Was there anything Methos wasn’t prepared for? The younger Immortal admired the car parked next to his bike. Methos had real good taste in his wheels. And then went to work. Richie had no intention of trying his luck with the Old Man and wanted to continue on his way as soon as possible. He wanted to go down to Naples, maybe even Sicily.

Around midday, he took a break to get some food. He was cleaning his oily hands on a rag when he saw a very expensive Benz coming up the driveway. The old man had made no mention of visitors today.

“Who’s that?” he asked Methos when the older Immortal came out of the house.

“A customer, so be nice, kid.” Methos replied and went to the car as it came to a halt in front of the stairs. Methos opened the passenger door and helped an old woman out of the vehicle.

“Signora Boldrini, so good to see you, but you didn’t have to come all the way out, I would have been more than happy to bring the painting to you.” He greeted the old mortal woman with a charming smile and guided her to the open door.

“Oh, but I couldn’t wait to see your newest work, Alessandro.” Signora Boldrini replied and patted his arm affectionately. Richie nearly choked, trying to suppress his laughter. Methos sent him one of his death-glares and the young Immortal quickly covered it with a fake cough.

“Oh, and how is this young man?” the old woman asked when she noticed him.

“Richard Ryan, Signora, a friend from the States. He’s currently traveling Europe to broaden his horizon and staying with me for a few days.” Methos explained smoothly.

Signora Boldrini nodded gravely. “It’s good to know that at least some young people still value a good education. My grandson cannot even be bothered to accompany me to the museum now and then. Truly the world is coming to an end. Mark my words.”

Richie shook the old woman’s hand, muttering the few Italian words he knew how to use correctly. The Signora smiled at him and then allowed Methos to lead her inside. Richie headed to the bathroom to wash up. Who knew if he was expected to attend lunch with them or not. He wouldn’t put it past the Old Man, just to torture him a bit.

 

Much to Richie’s relief, he didn’t have to have lunch with them. Signora Boldrini only collected her paining and drove back to Rome, having to attend a soiree in the Vatican that she just couldn’t miss.

“That old gal totally had the hots for you.” Richie pointed out as they watched her drive off.

“As long as she buys my works she can fantasize about me all she wants.” Methos replied calmly.

“That’s just kinky, man.” The younger Immortal pointed out making a disgusted face. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Do you never thing about anything other than food?” Methos asked as eh led the kid back inside.

“No, not really. Well, there’s sex, but since I’m not getting that right now, no offence, man, I’ll take food.” Richie grinned.

“Oh, I can fuck you, if you’re that desperate, kid.” Methos stated matter-of-fact. “I just didn’t think you were experimenting just yet.”

Richie stared at him shocked and then blushed furiously. “Ahm, well, thanks, but no thanks.”

Methos smiled at him wickedly. “You’re loss.”

 

As Ryan was to leave in the morning with his newly repaired bike, Methos brought out the good scotch to celebrate the fact. Not that he didn’t like the kid, but he was living way out here for a reason, he needed his peace and quiet for now, especially after taking Djoser’s head only a few weeks ago.

They sat in the spacious living room, enjoying the scotch and watching the local news. Well, Methos was, Ryan barely understood a word.

Therefore it was no surprise when the young man spoke up. “You know, I have always wondered, how did the Game come about? I mean, divine law is a bit lame, right?”

Methos sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood, but decided to humor the kid for tonight. “Well, I do have this theory.” He responded slowly. “Some Immortal with a cushy job as a local god meets another Immortal for the first time and doesn’t want to lose his post. Immortal A draws his sword, or axe, or whatever he had, and shouts to Immortal B “There can be only one?” In self-defense, Immortal B kills Immortal A, who was older and presumably wiser then wanders off only to run into Immortal C. This time, Immortal B draws his sword and shouts. "There can be only one?” Somewhat bewildered, Immortal C askes, “What do you mean, there can be only one? There are twenty of us gathered over the next hillside.” Immortal B says, “Really? A gathering? But there can be only one!” And that’s when the fighting started. A few gullible idiots get away and warn everyone they meet about the danger of gathering in large numbers. So now we all get to shout, “There can be only one!” and have at each other. Moronic but likely.”

“Are you serious?” Richie asked, not sure if Methos was screwing with him or not.

“Of course I am.” Methos paused for a second. “Another theory is that the game is a form of population control, crude but effective.”

“I’m not sure which theory I like better.” Richie shook his head.

It was a load of rubbish, but Methos preferred it to the truth. The whole Game/Gathering idea had most likely come from an event that had happened some four thousand years ago, maybe a bit more, the Watchers hadn’t been around then and therefore missed it.

Unfortunately, Methos had been there. As had two hundred to three hundred Immortals. That had been a very, very bad day. Methos preferred not to think about it too often or too long.

 

Methos watched Ryan drive away on his newly repaired bike. The Old Man had no illusions about the kid keeping his mouth shut. Try as he might, he would tell MacLeod and Joe as soon as he saw them again, or one of them called him, or texted him.

With a sigh Methos went back to his atelier. He should use the time he had left before the hordes arrived to get some work done. So much for staying hidden for a whole century. In retrospect it might have been overly optimistic of him, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he. And artists were expected to be eccentric, right?

 

Switzerland, 1818 AD

Methos was sitting at the table in the dining room absorbed in his work when he felt Byron arrive, and going by the giggling he could hear moments later he was not alone, as usual.

His student never let a chance pass by, be it man or woman. It was this huger for lift that Methos found so fascinating about Byron.

“Doc, where are you?” George called. “I’ve brought some friends for dinner.”

“Then I better get this done.” Methos replied as Byron with a pretty girl in each arm came into the room.

“Oh, those gruesome paintings again?” Byron asked. “That always spoils my appetite.”

“Nothing spoils your appetite, George,” Methos pointed out, but did gather his anatomical drawings together.

“They are very life-like.” One of the young women ventured. “Are you an artist too?”

Methos smiled at her. “No, I’m afraid, I’m only a doctor. If I were to be an artist, I would starve within the month.”

“Ah,” Byron laughed. “The Doc is being humble. He could make a fortune if he wanted to, but he prefers to help people, or so he claims.”

Methos shrugged. “We can’t be all geniuses like you.”

 

Three months. Ryan had held out longer than Methos had expected. But now he could see Macleod, Amanda and Joe coming up his driveway. At last the young Immortal had the good sense not to come along. Seemed MacLeod hadn’t been able to destroy Ryan’s sense of self-preservation completely.

“My, my, Methos, treating yourself well this time around.” Amanda greeted him with a kiss and a hug. He could also see that she was checking out his security, old habits die hard, didn’t he know it?

“It was time for a change,” was all he replied.

“You look good, Old Man.” Dawson said and they shook hands.

Methos shrugged. “Good genes, Joe, you know how it is. And please, stop brooding, MacLeod. I didn’t move away to personally insult you.” He told the Scot who held back and looked hurt and angry, though he tried to hide it, poorly.

“I know that.” Mac replied indignantly. “but you left without a word, I was worried.”

Methos rolled his eyes. “What for? I’m a big boy, I can look after myself.”

“I know that.” Mac said again.

“You’re repeating yourself, Duncan.” Amanda stepped in. “Why don’t you show us your work, Methos. Richie was quite impressed and that kid normally doesn’t recognize art when it bites him in the lovely ass of his.”

“Right.” Methos chuckled. “Come on in then.”

 

Methos had prepared for this visit and removed all the paintings he didn’t want them to see. What he had left should be enough to satisfy them.

“You know, I think I stole one of your paintings a couple of years ago.” Amanda said after admiring and inspecting his work. “Lovers in the water, it was called.”

Methos smiled. “Yes, that’s from me, one of the first ones I sold. Guy got it on the cheap.”

“Really? I got two hundred thousand Euros from my fence.”

“Good to know.” Methos shrugged. “I sold it for ten thousand.”

Joe whistled between his teeth. “You went from ten to two hundred grand in less than ten years. Not bad.”

“It pays the bills.” Methos stated.

“I never thought you’d be an artist.” MacLeod muttered.

Methos did not roll his eyes at the Scot, just. “What can I say, I’m full of surprises. You guys want something to drink?”

They all replied in the affirmative and Methos led them into the living room with a great view of the garden and the swimming pool. Not a little puddle most people dug into their backyards but a real pool were you could swim properly, it was almost thirty meters long and ten wide.

“I would have brought my bikini along if I had known you have a pool like that.” Amanda said. “Richie didn’t mention that.”

“I doubt he saw it.” Methos replied as he handed out the wine glasses. “He cared only about food and his bike. But I don’t mind if you want to go skinny dipping.”

“That sounds like Richie.” Mac agreed and sipped his wine, which made him look at Methos in surprise. “That’s a fantastic white. Where did you get it?”

Methos smiled enigmatically. “It’s from a stock I had left in Spain a while back. It’s no longer being produced, I’m afraid.”

“There’s something I wanted to ask you, Methos.” Joe said.

“And that’s what?” Methos asked curious.

“You weren’t by any chance in Japan and/or Boston, about three months ago?” Joe hardly tried to make it sound like a questions.

Methos smiled innocently. “And why would I have been at any of those place?”

Joe chuckled. “Because Zoll believes you were. She’s been after those books in Japan a while now and suddenly they’re sold to some anonymous guy, who was there and gone before she could blink.”

Methos shrugged. “She’s getting slow in her old days then.”

“What are you tow going on about?” Amanda wanted to know.

“Some of Methos’ journals have resurfaced in Japan and he bought them back right under our noses.” Joe explained. “Isn’t that right?”

“I’m pleading the fifth on that,” Methos said nonchalantly.

“And Boston?” Mac asked.

“Geez, did you and Amanda never get out of bed?” Methos asked. “There was a museum that burned down because of arson.”

“Right after they got a four thousand year old sarcophagus delivered.” Joe added. “What a coincidence.”

“Yes, indeed.” Methos agreed. He wouldn’t face up to that, at least not yet. Joe had the Japan thing, and that would have to be enough.

“You know what they say about coincidences.” Amanda cut in. “They take a lot of planning.”

Methos finished his wine. “Do they indeed? How interesting.”

“You saved that lady doctor, didn’t you?” Joe asked. “Who was the guy in the sarcophagus. I mean, he obviously had been an Immortal. They found a body with no head attached.”

“I have no idea the you’re talking about, Joe.” Methos replied. “More wine, anyone?”

End


End file.
